Sparkle and Magnificence
by green-eyed blonde
Summary: HD slash! Nonmagic, gayness, club scenes, and HIM, the one. Featuring a manipulative!Harry. Manhunt, anyone?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everyone! I am back into chaptered stories, with this one. Inspired by the discovery of Queer as Folk, and helped along by the song 'You Think You're a Man', by Full Frontal. This one is going to be less smutty and more fun. Maybe.**

**DISCLAIMER: Thanks, JKR.**

**Sparkle and Magnificence**

**Chapter One**

"Everyone is so…sparkly!" shouted Harry over the pulsing dance music.

Seamus Finnegan grinned, his white shirt buttoned only halfway, revealing his toned chest. The boy was prepared, tonight, for a manhunt. He turned his smile on Harry. No, the hunt hadn't resulted in Harry, it had begun with him.

"Harry love, look at this. Look at this sea of sparkling, shimmering, magnificent men," he cried, gesturing widely with his arms. "They are all looking for other sparkling shimmering magnificent men. That could be you, hm?"

Harry Potter, accidentally resplendent, adorably unaware, the definition of a charming disaster, smiled. He swept his eyes over the club, hoping that HE, (the one), would be in some sort of definitive glowing beam, or some other measure of obvious revelation. He, who's he? Harry wished he knew. He was leaning against the bar, a drink in hand, observing the scene and shouting to his friend Seamus. The only one who'd offered a solution to Harry's aloneness. Not loneliness.

Harry hadn't ever really had a boyfriend. He'd barely had girlfriends. He was alone, and he couldn't stay that way! Not to mention he hadn't been laid in a very, _very_ long time. All of his friends wanted him to find someone, but who'd helped? Seamus Finnegan. Well, that wasn't so unexpected, Harry supposed. After all, who else went to gay clubs? And if any of his other friends had been the gay club sort, nobody would be more frequent than Seamus. Nobody could be.

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"Harry, we're going out. We're going out, right now. Okay, in, like, half an hour. GOT IT?" Seamus had yelled over the phone, before abruptly hanging up. It had taken the brunette by surprise, and he'd stood stupefied for a moment before racing to find something decent to wear.

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Now, in the swirling bright colours and sweaty male gleam, Harry stood. There was something about every one of these men, something that was different from people in what Harry dubbed 'the real world'. The people here, they were rude, they were judgemental, they were insensitive, they were only in it for the sex. And they were amazing. The thing which they had, was confidence. Each of these men had more confidence than three real world people. They were empowered, they were infused with the sound, the sights, the incredible high of being yourself, with abandon. Most of them couldn't release themselves in the real world. So they went at it here with a passion.

A tall blonde presently approached Seamus, and after a nod from Harry, the two left. Harry sipped his drink and ate up the tight hardnesses around him. He noticed someone cruising him. He smirked. (Is that what he was supposed to do?) The boy made his way over. (Yeah, it was.) Harry studied him on his way. He was pretty cute. Certainly an intriguing possibility. Brown hair, slim build, approachable face.

They grinned at each other once the cruiser got near enough. Harry put his drink down and pulled the boy to the dance floor. They squeezed their way into the crowd, and began to move. The boy put his hands on Harry's hips and brought them closer as they danced.

The music was too loud to talk, and the floor seemed to vibrate with the weight of boys trying hard, boys seducing, boys giving the go-ahead. Harry was a boy too. He was a boy, and he hadn't had sex in months, damn it! His dance partner had gotten very, very close.

They were both so warm, and so full of air, and so alive. They were nose to nose now. Harry went for it. He captured the other's mouth with his own, and captured his body with his hands. Harry pulled the hot hard body into his own, and felt the boy return his kiss, with enthusiasm. Heavy breathing and slippery foreheads, and still the floor vibrated and still the music pounded, and still the men judged.

The boy in his hands spoke into his ear, and they retreated from the dance floor.

But then Harry saw something beautiful across the room. Something which was sparkling and shimmering and magnificent.

At that moment, a rolling spot of one of the green lights illuminated the most intensely stunning creature Harry had ever seen. Slender, and graceful, with the very face of couture, a face exquisite, even with eyes half-closed. He was dressed in black and white, showing enough skin to prove his perfection, but not enough to indulge anyone. He was incredible. Harry stopped for a moment, stopped everything, stopped his heart from beating. But then he felt a tug on his shirt, and his brunette was watching him, waiting for him. Harry turned away from the God, knowing he was too good for him, and put an arm around his dance partner, smiling at him.

**A/N: I would love it oh so much if you reviewed. Wait up for the next installment, hm?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: N'est pas mon.**

**A/N: Thanks, reviewers! Love you. Please keep it coming!**

The next morning Harry awoke in an alien environment. The sunlight was streaming in from the wrong side, and the sheets were too dark, and— oh, it seemed they'd been quite rambunctious last night. The bedroom Harry found himself had clothes strewn over everything, pieces of something broken glittering on the floor, and a chair knocked over. Hm, maybe not so rambunctious. He'd seen worse. (He was rather exuberant by nature.) He turned to examine the person whose arm was still splayed over his crotch. Oh right! Okay, he wasn't bad. Quite lovely, actually. The boy was fairly small, and latino. While Harry watched, he opened his dark brown eyes, and he looked slightly surprised to find Harry's green ones.

"Oh," he said softly. Did he think Harry would have gone home? Well, Harry would have, had he not fallen promptly and deeply asleep. Ah well. He stood up and began rummaging through the debris for his clothes. He smiled at the boy as he peeled his trousers off a lampshade and began to put them on.

"Well, that was fun, I must say," said Harry, breaking the silence of the room (which had been much less silent last night). The other boy chuckled and also got up to get dressed, walking gingerly. Harry went to him and gave him a light kiss on the cheek and then headed for the door.

"Wait," called the little dancer. "Do you want to go out to the club again? Friday?" he grinned a little slyly.

Harry appraised and approved. He nodded.

"Alright, yeah. I'll see you," he grinned and walked out.

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Friday night. Hot bodies, hot groins, hot thoughts. Heavy reverberating beats, heavy arms resting on any shelf in any body, heavy balls of pre-lust coiled in every stomach. Harry turned to his exotic date and smiled beatifically.

"Okaylet'sdancenow."

The boy grinned and pulled him by the hand into the grinding, thrusting heat. And grind and thrust they did. Harry was glad to know that tonight, finally, the chances of him going home alone were slim. His partner stuffed a warm hand in the back of his pants.

Very slim indeed.

He was thoroughly enjoying himself, beautiful men on all sides, one of whom had eyes only for him, a warm buzz from the alcohol calming and enthusing him at the same time, when he saw Him. That same stunning character from last week, elegant and enticing. His dancer saw where he was looking, and raised his eyebrows.

"You've noticed Draco!" he shouted over the noise.

"Who?"

"DRACO! DRACO MALFOY! QUEEN OF THE BALL! HE'S LIKE, RESIDENT INTRIGUE."

"HE'S GORGEOUS!"

A nod of agreement. Then the boy turned around and dove back into his dirty dancing. Harry bit his lip, still staring at Draco. He was surrounded by innumerable doting men, each determined to have their turn to dance with him. He smiled at them, but it was a rather distant smile, the kind that comes from knowing you don't have to try very hard to get anything you want. Harry's mind clouded with very nasty images, and he began to unconsciously dance himself and his partner closer to where Draco was.

Soon he found himself only a few feet away from the blonde intrigue. And the closer viewing did absolutely no damage to the image of perfection, which is a little bit unusual for this sort of thing.

Then Harry's blood nearly exploded his heart.

Just- just very quickly, Draco Malfoy had glanced up and looked straight at him.

His eyes were like- likereallypretty. They were silver, and sharp, like they had bits of metal inside, and a glance could cut right through you. It cut Harry.

After the initial stun of the cut, he began to bleed, passionately. He stared intensely into Draco's eyes, willing him to look again. The silver-eyed blonde seemed to feel Harry's stare, and looked up again, this time regarding Harry for a longer time, holding his emerald gaze. It seemed like a very long time, but when Draco blinked and looked away, it had ended all too soon. Harry was out of breath, but not from dancing. He felt like he was choking. Choking on the blood those eyes had released from him.

He suddenly became aware of the sticky lips of his date pressing against his, teeth biting, tongue reaching. Harry kissed back, but he closed his eyes so he wouldn't know the ones looking at him were brown.

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Harry hissed and arched his back away from the wall, forcing himself deeper inside the hot wetness of his lover's mouth. Around him, a chorus of male pleasure rose into the air, from scattered places in the back room of the club. The place, whether intended for hurried, public, often anonymous sex or not, was used for just that. And Harry was enveloped in a room full of sin, engorged cheap fun. He closed his eyes and buried his fingers in soft pale gold hair, saw the white face surrounding his erection, felt the long fingers grasp his behind. Then he opened his eyes and remembered that it was dark brown hair, and tanned skin, and that it wasn't at all the way he wished it. But as he was pushed off the edge of control, his eyes filled with the sight of Draco Malfoy; the real one, walking past him, an erotic-eyed stranger next to him. Draco's silver eyes were met, and Harry climaxed, never looking away, even if the edges of his vision were soft and blurry. Harry leaned his head back against the wall as he panted, and watched Draco blink, then turn away.

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"A baby? Oh! Well done, mate!" Harry said with a grin, looking across the table at one of his two best friends. The other of the two blushed.

"And to think, Harry, we're still out there, being young, having casual sex, and enjoying our lives immensely…" called Seamus from where he was standing in the kitchen, searching the refrigerator. "What are we going to do with our lives? And all this damned fun!"

"Very funny, Seamus," said Hermione to her temporary house-mate. Ron made a face.

"Don't have to rub it in!"

Hermione pinched his arm. Harry smiled.

"Ahhh, I'm so excited! But, yeah no, I don't envy you," he said with a laugh. "Wish I'd seen your mum's face when you told her."

Ron covered his face with his hands, and Hermione burst into laughter.

Apparently, Molly had been so overwhelmed by the news, she'd fainted, right into Ron's arms, who was caught rather off-guard, and dropped her. When she awoke she gave Ron a 45 minute lecture about being a good prepared parent, putting the baby in her place.

"Many more lectures to come, I'm sure."

"Oh, but she's _sooo_ happy!" added Hermione. Harry got up from his seat and pulled his old friend into a tight hug, whispering to her that she'd make a fantastic mother. Then he hugged Ron, too, in the manliest way he could.

After a few more moments discussing the coming addition, Seamus, leaning on the back of Hermione's chair, changed the subject.

"Harry, I forgot – that little sexy you picked up last week when we went out, is he anybody?"

"Wh- oh, him."

Seamus raised his eyebrows.

"He's pretty cute, I guess. We went out again last night."

"You don't sound very excited," put in Hermione.

Harry shrugged.

"Even though I know you got some action," grinned Seamus.

Ron grimaced, and Harry furrowed his brows.

"How did you know that?"

"I just did."

Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Well, to be honest, I'm just not that into him."

"Into him?" asked Seamus. "But, but I know you were into him last night too."

Hermione's mouth popped open a little.

"What? Seriously Seamus, what the fuck? How do you know that?"

The Irishman just smiled and muttered something about sources.

"Okay, well, he's alright, but I saw this other guy…and he --"

"He was hot?"

"Yeah he was hot. He's incredible!"

"Well Harry, you can't lead this other boy on," said Hermione.

"Yeah, go after the New Sexpot."

"But he's too good for me…" whined Harry.

"Nobody is too good for my Harry!" cried Ron, quite unexpectedly. Then he grinned at his friend. "Seriously!"

"Aw, Ron, love, thank you!"

Hermione giggled.

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So, Harry had to screen his calls.

The limit was two dates, since he was sort of trying, well, sort of thinking of pursuing someone else. Harry didn't say anything to the boy. He hoped that was okay.

He called Seamus and asked him to go out again, the next week. It seemed that every Friday was an event, from now on.

So they went. Harry spent a much longer time getting ready this week than usual. He'd never before cared about how he dressed, or how messy his hair was. Now he did.

Once more, they hit the club. Once more, the ground shook. But this time, Harry kept his eyes wide open for that beautiful delight, Draco Malfoy. For hours he kept sentry at the bar, drinking and watching, and nothing. Nothing. Seamus put a hand on Harry's shoulder and yelled that he was going outside for a fag, be right back. Harry nodded. He couldn't help being disappointed, even though he realized that of course, Draco wouldn't just show up right away, and come over to him, and start making passionate love to him…Of course not.

Here's when Seamus strode up to him, grinning wildly.

"Harry, I've got a surprise for you."

"WHAT?"

"A SURPRISE!"

"WHAT IS IT?"

"I JUST MET BLAISE ZABINI OUTSIDE. BLAISE ZABINI, BEST MATE OF ONE DRACO MALFOY."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"WHERE IS HE?"

Blaise clapped his hands and pointed.

Harry headed over.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: EVERYONE, I HAVE A CONFESSION TO MAKE. I AM NOT J.K.R. SORRY.**

**A/N: Seven inches of gratitude to the reviewers! 3 Please keep at it, readers!**

**Chapter Three**

Blaise Zabini was a dark boy with bold facial features, making him quite beautiful, and also intimidating. He was wearing a shiny silver shirt which, in the real world, would be quite ridiculous, but here, made him look stunning. Harry went straight to him, intent on starting up a casual conversation. Once he was close enough, and had caught Blaise's eye, he nodded.

"Hi," he said.

"WHAT?"

"I SAID HI!"

"OH, HEY."

Harry ordered a drink, and a second for Blaise.

"I HATE THIS SONG," he remarked. "WELL, I ALSO LOVE IT." It was, erm, it was that one that goes 'DODODODODOOOO!'

Blaise laughed.

"YES, I ADORE IT. AND IT REPULSES ME. IT REMINDS ME A LITTLE OF MY LOVE LIFE."

Harry laughed now. This was going well.

"WOW, I THINK WE ARE MIRRORED SOULS," he shouted, with a devilish grin.

"WE'RE MEANT TO BE. WANT TO DANCE?"

They danced. They abandoned their expensive drinks and danced. Blaise was not shy. Harry was not shy. You see.

They were getting along spectacularly, and when they were drinking once more, Harry decided to bring up this one little thing.

"SO, DO YOU WANT TO GO OUT SOME TIME?"

"OUT?"

"YEAH, SOME PLACE THAT ISN'T HERE. WHERE I CAN REST MY VOCAL CORDS."

"ALRIGHT THEN," said Blaise with a smile.

"OH, BUT THERE'S JUST ONE THING." A questioning look. "CAN YOU BRING A DATE FOR MY FRIEND? I JUST, HE'S IN NEED OF SOME SOCIALIZATION."

Blaise looked a little worried for a moment, but then smirked.

"I WOULD LOVE TO BRING SOMEONE. I KNOW JUST THE BOY."

Harry grinned beautifully, and put a hand on Blaise's thigh.

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"You told him I was in need of socialization?" cried Seamus. "Why would you do that?"

"I was afraid he'd refuse!"

"Harry, this isn't very moral, I hope you know that."

"Shhh. Everyone does things which maybe aren't technically very nice. Just let me do it once! Anyways, what if Draco Malfoy turns out to be my soul mate, and we both live very long, excessively happy lives, in turn inspiring happiness in everyone around us, and brightening the world in general? Then it'll all have been for good, won't it?"

Seamus stared flatly at Harry Potter.

"Just shut up and fix your tie…" muttered Harry.

Once they arrived at the restaurant (some fashionable Japanese place) they sat down to wait for their (if not respective) counterparts.

Harry stood up when he saw Blaise walk through the door, and waved him over. Then he saw Draco Malfoy. If names weren't already capitalized, his would be. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He had been a little worried that Blaise would bring another friend, but had taken the chance. Anything for that sexxxy blonde.

Blaise pulled Harry into a one-armed hug, and he introduced Seamus to Draco. Then he said,

"Harry Potter, this is Draco Malfoy. Draco, here's the cutie I met Friday." He smiled.

Harry swallowed and held his hand out to Draco, meeting those sharp silver eyes that seemed familiar, yet unknowable. Draco's tongue darted out to lick his lips, and Harry could have sworn that he felt his dick twitch. Draco's eyes sparked with recognition, and he spoke to Harry, for the first time ever, in a low sultry voice.

"You're the one with the really hot orgasm face."

Seamus' and Harry's eyes widened, Harry swallowed, and Blaise's eyebrows lifted.

"What?" choked out Harry, remembering perfectly well.

"I saw you, at the club, getting sucked off," stated Draco coolly. "I must say, I was intrigued." The whole time he was speaking, his eyes never left Harry's, stabbing them, giving Harry the impulse to squint.

Seamus broke the electric silence with a coughing/sitting down/laughing sort of thing.

Harry blinked and looked away from Draco's stare as he sat.

"Draco here has got a little bit of a problem with public decency," said Blaise, attempting a laugh.

Harry grinned at him.

"Oh, it's quite alright. I suppose it's quite a memorable way to start a conversation." Here he shot another glance at the blonde sitting across from him.

"It was a memorable thing to witness," replied Draco, smirking a little.

"Back off Draco, he's mine!" said Blaise, playfully running his tongue over his teeth while giving Harry an exaggerated erotic look.

Harry laughed lightly. Then he nudged Seamus under the table, and the sandy-haired boy immediately engaged Blaise in conversation.

Harry smiled at Draco.

"So, yeah, I remember seeing you at the club. I mean, not only that time," he grinned sheepishly, "but, other times. Do you go there a lot?"

"Well it's really all we can do, isn't it?" Draco replied. "This rubbish town has only the one place, unless we want to be rubbing elbows with, you know, _girls_ and the like." He shuddered. Harry giggled.

"True. Although, I've not really been looking…I've just started going there, thanks to this one," he nodded his head in Seamus' direction.

There was a pause in conversation as the waiter came and took their orders.

Harry suddenly realized that Blaise was smiling at him, and he quickly smiled back, in as charming a way as he could muster.

"So, erm – are you interested in football?" Seamus asked him hastily. Blaise was absorbed once more in Seamus' conversation, albeit probably wondering why nobody was talking to their date.

Harry turned back to the object of his affections, and raised one eyebrow in a flirty sort of smile. Draco's lips parted and he focused intensely on Harry for a second, then glanced at Blaise, and back at Harry.

He leaned forward, causing Harry to do the same.

"Is there something going on here, Harry?" he whispered, one corner of his mouth turned up.

Harry looked at him, his perfect skin, his sharp angles, his delicate eyebrows.

"Not at all, Draco," he replied with an innocent smile.

The food soon came, after some proper small-talk amongst the whole table. They began to eat, conversation lessening but still remaining.

Suddenly Harry noticed something glinting in Draco's mouth, something catching the light, somewhere behind his teeth. His mouth fell open and he paused.

Blaise noticed him staring, and began to laugh.

"Draco," he said. "Show Harry. Open your mouth!"

Draco said 'oh!' and gave a snort of laughter. Then he stared directly into Harry's eyes, opened his mouth, and protruded his tongue. There, in the centre, was a silver ball balanced on Draco's pink wet tongue.

Harry almost came. A tongue piercing. He stared for a few seconds, and then Draco sucked his tongue back in and grinned.

"Like it?" he asked.

Harry made one of those laughs that was the length of one breath, and he raised his eyes to Draco's.

"I love it," he stated.

Blaise frowned.

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"Then you _what_?" asked Hermione incredulously through the phone.

"Then I slept with him."

"Wait, you slept with _who_?"

"Blaise."

The longer the silence went on, the more Harry winced. Hermione's moral lecture was bound to be projectile vomited out of her, with real real anger, or real real disappointment. He hoped it was anger.

"Harry…"

Shite. That's disappointment.

"Hermione, please, I don't need this. I realize that perhaps this wasn't this best course of action--"

"Best course of action??" she shrieked. "Harry, you realize how awfully this is going to end up, don't you?"

He did! Well, he didn't. Well, he did, deep inside, but he liked to think that maybe that deep part was all wrong after all.

"Relax, Hermione. I've got it all planned out. I've already asked him out on another double date." 

There was a thumping sort of noise from her end of the phone.

She'd just thrown her head forward onto the wall of her living room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Okay, what if I was like 'I am allowed to use this without a disclaimer because what really happened was, JKR stole it from ME, and SHE didn't put a disclaimer! **

**A/N: Please Read AND Review.**

**Chapter Four**

Seamus Finnigan had reluctantly agreed to go with Harry to his Manipulation. Well, it really wasn't all bad. After all, both Blaise and Draco were incredibly good-looking. So even though the tension was unbearable, and it was immoral, and he felt perpetually awkward and perpetually under pressure, he had eye candy. That was something.

An hour before he had to leave, he came downstairs. He'd smelled food. He saw the source of the intoxicating smell; some sort of mixey orangey casserole sort of thing. He took a spoon and dug some out. Not bad. Really good, actually. He got another spoonful. And another. One more!

Hermione walked in, saw him with the spoon in his mouth, standing over the kitchen counter. She shrieked.

"Relax, Hermione," he said thickly. "It still looks alright, I didn't eat that much."

"No, Seamus! That wasn't for you! It has shrimp in it!"

Seamus paled. Only a few seconds into his pallour, he began to take on a pinker tinge.

He was allergic to shellfish.

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"He blew up like a balloon!" shouted Ron over the phone. "We had to rush him to the hospital, he looked like a cartoon, Harry!"

"Shit! Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine, we got him in soon enough."

"Oh good. Alright Ron, thanks for calling. Tell Seamus to be more bloody careful!"

"Will do mate."

Harry shut his cell phone and looked around him. The bar was filling up fast, and luckily, Blaise and Draco hadn't arrived yet. He could – he could leave, and then call later and say he'd had to take Seamus, or, or –

"Hey there love," came a deep, cheerful voice from behind him.

"Hello Harry," came the soft tone of the voice's companion.

Okay, so this, this was bad. He took a deep breath and tried to collect himself, then he spun around, charming smile firmly in place.

"Blaise," he said, nodding. "Draco."

"Where's Seamus?" asked Blaise, as Draco looked around the bar, looking bored.

"Actually," Harry said, smile fading, "he can't make it, he's had a really bad allergic reaction. It's just happened, too, I didn't have time to call you or anything…"

Blaise furrowed his brows. Draco raised his, again interested in the conversation. He caught Harry's eye.

"Sorry Draco," stated Harry, one eyebrow faintly arched.

Draco stared back at him, a grin slowly growing upon his lips.

"It's alright Harry. I'm sure we'll have a great time. The three of us."

Blaise glared at him.

Draco smiled placatingly and guided both of them to a booth. Draco and Blaise ended up sitting beside each other, across from Harry.

A silent moment reigned, with Harry grinning at both of them, a small frown on Blaise's face, and a small smile on Draco's. They looked like an inverted mirror. Light, dark, upturned, down-turned. Harry wanted to fuck Draco.

That's how sudden it was.

It was always like that. He'd just be thinking of something innocent, something unrelated, and suddenly he wanted to fuck Draco. Right now. But he couldn't. He had to sit here, with his would-be and his wouldn't-be, pretending.

The three talked amongst themselves, and the whole time, Harry was really wanting to touch Draco, to feel his sunny hair and his warm hands and his hot, long member. But he was pretending, so he pretended that it was Blaise he was wanting to touch. He'd already touched Blaise, and it hadn't been that exciting. Not bad, just not—not unexpected. Every time Harry and Draco made eye contact, though, Blaise noticed. And it was very obvious that he was very bothered by this idea that seemed to have popped into his head.

Finally, Harry had to excuse himself and relieve his coital tension.

The fluorescent lighting of the washroom poured over the door of his stall and formed a shadow in which Harry hid the front of himself. He stifled his laboured breathing, and he wiped up his evidence.

When he got back to the table, the blonde was nowhere to be found. For one panicked moment, Harry thought he'd been in the washroom, and knew all about what he'd been doing.

"Sorry, Draco's gone home," said Blaise, motioning for Harry to sit down again. "He said he felt uncomfortable." Blaise shrugged.

Harry would have narrowed his eyes, but then Blaise would have seen. So instead he smiled. He leaned in and said "me too" conspiratorially. A blinding smile from Blaise.

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Sweaty palms in the dark, hot breath under sheets, soles of feet exposed to the air, closed doors and windows. Then it was over, again, and Blaise sighed. Harry breathed. Then he got up and searched for his clothes.

"Are you leaving?" asked Blaise, quickly descending into sleep.

"Yeah, see you later."

Harry left the steamy flat and rode the lift down, wiping foreign sweat from his body. The silver doors jerked open, and Harry froze. Soft blonde locks fell into the metal eyes of Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy looking surprised, then smirking, then jumping into the elevator and wrapping his arms around Harry's neck and pressing his hot tongue onto Harry's and the lift doors closed and there was the piercing the cold in the centre of heat and Harry was never too tired for this and Draco undid his own pants and then Harry's and then he pulled his own down and he reached back for Harry's cock and he pulled it towards his ass and he said something and Harry didn't hear it but he did it anyway and nothing nothing pleasure hot white black everything in and out and screaming and Harry pushed in really hard and Draco was flat against the wall there's blood and they both yelled and they both pulsed and everything ended and then the lift doors opened.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yes, I am a machine. Here you go! Please, as always, review. And thanks to those who do.**

**DISCLAIMER: Don't be daft.**

**Chapter Five**

The lift doors opened, and there was Draco Malfoy. Harry jumped. He looked amazing, even though it had to be at least three in the morning, and he'd probably been doing some unclean things. Unclean things of the sort which Harry wished were happening with him, unclean things like what's been happening in his _very_ vivid fantasies.

Vivid fantasies; that's what he lived on these days. But now, Draco was here, really. He and Blaise lived in the same building, and he was returning home after a typical Draco Malfoy night.

Draco looked up from beneath strands of hair, and his mouth formed a small 'O'. Then those lips slowly closed and curved upwards at the ends, and he stepped into the lift.

Harry stayed inside.

"Harry Potter…" he mused. "What on earth could you be doing here, in the building of mine, and of one Blaise Zabini?"

Harry blushed a little, before attempting to regain his composure.

"What do you think, Draco? What would you like to think?"

"Well, Harry, what if they are two different things?"

"Then I suppose either you are jealous of Blaise, or of me," the boy replied with a smirk.

Draco grinned appreciatively.

After a pause, Draco spoke.

"Tell me Harry, are you a top, or a bottom?"

Another pause as Harry went through shock, pleasure, and then panic.

"Always a top," he finally replied. He decided he was pleased with the coolness with which he'd spoken.

"A top, hm…How does old Zabini take that? As I understand, he quite enjoys dominating himself."

Harry shrugged, and then gave a sideways glace at Draco and smiled. The blonde did too.

Both boys were grinning like mad by now.

Neither knew exactly why.

The lift gave a 'ding' and jerked to a stop. Harry glanced at Draco.

"This is me."

Draco nodded, still grinning.

"I'll see you later, Harry."

"Yeah, bye."

Harry stepped out.

The doors began to close, but Draco threw out an arm and Harry turned.

"By the way, Harry — you can't be on top forever."

He retracted his arm and the lift doors closed, concealing the beautiful boy and his infuriatingly sexy smirk.

Harry stared for a moment, and then turned to head home.

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"I really think he likes me!" Harry said excitedly to Seamus. He was standing over the hospital bed of the boy, who was currently waiting for his swollen face to shrink back to normal.

Seamus attempted to smile, but it ended up just a big squishy mess, and his eyes closed accidentally, leaving him blind. He really was a good friend.

"Well, dear Harry, it certainly sounds like he wants you," Seamus said. Or, Seamus tried to say.

Harry bit his lip and smiled.

"But what about Blaise? I don't want to go all Hermione on you, but you're being really awful to him!"

Seamus' words were sort of mushed, and his voice was scratchy, but Harry understood most of what he'd said.

He groaned.

"Ugh, I don't know…Can't I just…stop talking to him?"

Seamus snorted, and then shook his head.

A pause.

"How are you, by the way?"

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A few days later, Harry walked into the apartment building of Blaise and Draco. He had been given stern lectures by several people, the most memorable of which had been, of course, Hermione. Hermione, his maternal guidance, his feminine influence, the only woman he'd ever had in his life. She was the one who'd convinced Harry that what he was doing was going to go horribly wrong, and that if he continued to go out with Blaise, even without any momentum with Draco, it would end poorly. She was the only one he listened to. She was the only one he ever listened to about things like this.

Harry dug his hands deep into his pockets as he rode the lift up, trying to think of what he would say. He walked down the hall to Blaise's door, and knocked. No answer. He knocked again. Nothing. Blaise didn't appear to be at home. Damn it, he'd been ready! Now he'd probably give up again. "Blaise!" he called, desperately. "Blaaaaaise! Are you here?"

Just then, a door across the hall opened.

"Harry?"

He spun around.

"Draco."

He looked so beautiful. When didn't he?

"Blaise isn't here," stated Draco, leaning on the door frame.

Harry nodded.

"Yeah…I see that. I sort of wanted to talk to him."

"Well, do you want to talk to me?"

A pause, and then another nod.

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"So…how've you been?" asked Harry awkwardly, sitting on the couch of one Draco Malfoy.

Draco came and sat on the couch, handing Harry a cup of tea.

He glanced at Harry dubiously.

"Harry, why are you trying to make small talk?"

"Erm, well, I don't know. I suppose I thought the silence was unnerving and awkward."

"But you know, love, that we don't need small talk."

"We—we don't?"

"No."

"Okay, Harry, I know that you want me."

A pause.

"Do you think so?"

"Yes, I do."

Draco put down his mug, and shifted so that he was facing Harry.

Harry felt very very odd. He was sort of really excited, and turned on, and also embarrassed, and also guilty. But he tried to hide it, and he looked directly into those perfect grey eyes.

"How do you know?"

"I know. I know because of several things. The first one is, you've been flirting with me ever since we met. The second is, you have insisted only on double dates when you went out with Blaise. The third is, I'm me. The fourth is that I want you, and I always get what I want."

Harry's blood suddenly swooshed through him really fast, and he felt a little dizzy. He never looked away from Draco's eyes, which were staring directly back into his own brilliant green ones.

Then Draco's eyes left his, and began roving around his whole face, studying him. Then he smiled softly, and leaned into Harry.

Any thoughts of speaking to Blaise flew right out the window, and Harry immediately pressed into the kiss, placing his hand on Draco's elegant neck.

Their lips parted at the same time and tongues made electric contact. Harry's eyes widened at the unusual hardness of Draco's tongue piercing. The rustling of their movements to get closer sounded, and Draco slowly pushed Harry onto his back, where hands roamed and hickeys were born and moans sounded. Harry was ecstatic. He could not believe his luck. Draco Malfoy, the most perfect and beautiful man in the world, wanted _him_. Him! For real, this time! The pleasure of perfection was enough to make Harry crazy. He would have to try really really hard if he wanted to last.

Shirts found themselves disgarded. Then off with Draco's pants. Harry's were a greater ordeal, with him being squished, and the couch not really being a proper space for two grown men. So Draco rolled them onto the floor. Harry hurt himself, but he wouldn't discover this until a day later, and seeing the bruise would only make him giddy. Harry was surprised and delighted a minute later to find himself completely exposed. He whined and pulled at Draco's boxers, curling his fingers around the edge and revealing that gorgeous pulsing treasure. Harry began panting. His brain was completely emptied by now, and he could think nothing but how much he wanted the beautiful creature on top of him. Abruptly, he was flipped over, and a hot tongue planted itself in the centre of his neck, right at his hairline. His palms were to the floor, and his fingers balled up, wishing they had something to grab. The tongue moved slowly down his neck, in a straight line, and continued down his spine. Right at the small of his back, it stopped, and went back up, this time allowing the round little stud to scrape across the ridges, a hard break in the centre of wet heat. Back down again now. Only this time, there was no stopping. Harry cried out and opened his legs wider. Okay, after this was over, he could die.

A few intensely pleasurable moments later, Draco stuck two fingers in front of Harry's mouth. Harry took them inside and sucked for a moment, swirling his tongue around the strong but slender appendages. Draco shuddered and closed his eyes. Then he gently removed them and slid them inside Harry, kissing his shoulder as he did so. He scissored his fingers a few times, and then pulled his hand out and spit on it, pumping his own erection. The blonde pulled Harry up so that he was on his hands and knees. Then he positioned himself, grabbed Harry's hips, and pushed inside. Two gasps; one in pleasure, one in pain. However, the latter soon faded, and after some tentative movements, turned into the former. Draco's eyes squeezed shut, and Harry's widened, and he bit his lip. They pushed together faster, and more frantically, until finally, Harry knew the world was ending. This was it, this was him, doing perfection. This was it, everything could end. He didn't let a sound escape his mouth, because he didn't want to miss any of Draco's sounds. He didn't let himself collapse on his arms, because he wanted to feel Draco collapsing. He didn't let himself close his eyes, because he wanted to see everything, and remember everything.

This was the end of the world.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: This is not what happened in the books, is it? This is not how JKR intended to use her characters, is it? Yes, hers. Not mine, sorries.**

**A/N: I hope you know that I was writing this instead of studying. Tsk. The things I do for you (fail for you). Please review, I am forever indebted to those who do!**

**Chapter Six**

They were in the club again, and Harry and Draco snogged frantically. Then Harry spotted Blaise coming back from wherever he'd been taking a piss, and he shoved Draco away. They'd been doing this for a few weeks. Going out in groups of four, sometimes more, and stealing secret looks, secret kisses, whenever Blaise turned away. Harry would go home some nights with Blaise, sleep with him, say goodbye, and walk across the hall into the waiting arms of Draco. The blonde never said a thing about it. He never once brought up the fact that Harry was still technically involved with Blaise, and that Blaise was his best friend, and that this was all very wrong. Instead he flirted, he teased, he enchanted, he insulted, he whispered, he moaned. Harry, Harry, what fun.

Harry wondered about this. Shouldn't Draco be upset? How could he be with a man who would do this to his own best friend? But then he remembered that he was a cheater, wasn't he? Whew, a tangled web we weave.

Harry wanted Draco all the time. And Draco seemed to be ready for him all the time, suggesting that maybe he wanted him back. When Harry was with Blaise, he made sure the lights were off, so that he could pretend. He moaned loudly so that he didn't have to hear the deep grunts of Blaise, and know how different they were from the higher cries of Draco.

The lights were flashing, and they were dancing, all of them, everyone. The strobe lights came on for a moment, separating each movement into segments, like a film sequence, stop-motion, like each beat of the music was a separate moment in time, a separate image to remember, to examine. Harry watched the stilled changing positions of Blaise, Draco, and Seamus. Okay, mostly Draco. The crowd of admirers still swarmed around him, but this time Harry was closest. He quite liked it. Seeing all these spectacular men wanting spectacular Draco, and in the darkened bedroom, it was Harry who became spectacular.

Tonight the place had a new DJ, and the sound was less dancey and more hip-hop. This time the walls did not ring with synthetic pitches and quick pulses, it reverberated with thick jarring beats and silky voices. This music was much better working in the pit of you, in the hot coiling core. The hips, the groin, the libido. Everyone was stuck in a sweaty clump of rolling hips and arching backs.

Everyone was stuck together, so what was the harm in noticing that Draco was suddenly directly behind you? What was the harm in just a little dancing? Just a little dancing. Just a little rubbing, a little grinding, a little warm hard thump against your leg? Then how could you not just glance back and meet the metal eyes of your secret, and share a secret look, powerfully packed with lust? How could your mouth not pop open a little as the hardness gets harder and creates more friction? What's the harm in –

Blaise was staring at Harry now. He made eye contact for a moment, and Harry tried to grin innocently. Blaise smiled back, a little, and broke the contact. No harm done?

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Okay, so he had to stop this. This had to stop. Harry had decided, after much berating and pleading by Seamus, that Blaise needed to be cut off, before the whole situation got worse.

He found himself once more at the familiar door of Blaise's flat. He knocked. Nothing. Once more. Nothing. Then, wait, what was that? He pressed his ear to the door. The faint sounds of heavy breathing, of halting whimpers, and suddenly, an unmistakably Blaise climactic yell. What?

Harry went across the hall and knocked on Draco's door. No answer, even after a few attempts. He tried the door. It was unlocked. He walked hesitantly into the flat and called for Draco. The place was empty. He went back out into the hall, closing Draco's door. As he looked up, Blaise's door opened, surprisingly. Harry's heart went slack as the stunning blonde himself walked out, tying his tie. He glanced up and saw Harry. He glanced back at Blaise's door. The dark boy was leaning in the doorframe, wearing only boxers and wide-open jeans. Draco gave Harry a quick kiss on the cheek, and dashed into his own flat, closing the door.

"Harry," said Blaise silkily. "What a surprise this is."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey there, here's the next chapter! Yeah, took a little longer. But it was still v. fast, wasn't it? Okay please review.**

**Disclaimer: Do I honestly need to keep saying it? I don't, right? I'm going to stop. From now on, no disclaimers! In this story.**

**Chapter Seven**

Harry stood still for a moment, shocked. Was—wh—

"What--"

Blaise smiled placidly and walked back into his flat. Harry did not know whether to follow him, or to speak to Draco, or to simply get out of there before Blaise chopped off his remaining ball.

He stood in the hallway for a few solid, silent, hesitant minutes. Then he followed Blaise inside. The dark boy was standing in his kitchen, still lacking a shirt and secured pants, making a sandwich. He glanced quickly up at Harry, who stood awkwardly.

"Erm…Blaise, did you have sex with Draco?"

He looked Harry in the eye.

"Did _you_ have sex with Draco?"

Oh. Oh yeah. Damn, this was not on. Harry sort of puckered his lips and knitted his brows. What should he be feeling? He shifted his weight.

"Yeah."

"So, we're even."

"Yeah."

"Harry, you're an ass."

"No y—okay yeah. But no, listen," he went on, with a sudden burst of indignance. "Listen, I was actually coming here to straighten things out with you! I was going to tell you about Draco, and then I was going to, well, to let you down easy…"

Blaise looked up again, putting both hands on the edge of the countertop. This was the first bit of emotion he'd shown. In fact, he looked pretty pissed. He turned away from the counter, towards Harry.

"Let me down easy? Harry, I can't believe I was just used like that! I felt like an idiot."

Blaise actually looked really upset. Harry was a little surprised. He hadn't thought that he was this important to the boy. Now, he felt guilty. He hadn't really, before.

"I'm sorry."

A short silence ensued. Harry memorized the floor.

Then Blaise took a shuddering breath, and to Harry's ultimate surprise, let his eyes fill with tears.

Harry felt like he was in someone else's life. Nobody _cried_ over him! Nobody ever got attached to Harry, and Harry never got attached to anyone. Or perhaps it was the latter that produced the former. Harry did not make people cry. He had, when he was young, made a few girls cry. But not since then. He'd never made a grown man tear up over him.

"I really liked you," Blaise said, trying to nonchalantly wipe away a stray salty rivulet.

Someone had really liked him. And he hadn't even known it. It hadn't even occurred to him. He took a nervous step forward, not sure if he should try to comfort Blaise. The boy who had just been noticed.

"And now, because of you, I've gone and slept with _him_…" Blaise continued to mutter. "My best friend, you made me sleep with my best friend."

Here, Harry guiltily wondered why Draco would agree to such a thing. But he couldn't ask Blaise, of course not. He stayed silent.

"You have to go, Harry."

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Draco opened his door to see a mix of shellshock, confusion, and awe. Harry Potter stood there staring blankly for a moment, and then seemed to come into himself. He looked seriously at Draco, until he was invited in. The blonde looked exquisite, as always. His clean and calm was a stark contrast to the floundering Blaise.

"Why did you do that, Draco?"

Draco fell gracefully onto his black couch.

"You were very awful to him, Harry."

Harry sat too.

"You were too," he stated.

"You were also awful to me."

"That's not true, _you_ were awful to _me_, just then," countered Harry.

Draco said nothing, he merely reclined comfortably, crossing his legs.

"You deserved it."

"You deserve me."

A pause.

"Draco, why did you do it?"

"Do what, you or him?"

Glaring, Harry replied, "Him."

"I wanted to get back at you, for what you did to him."

"Didn't you want to get back at you, for what you did to him?"

"I got back at me by sleeping with him. It was so, so wrong, Harry. And I knew you'd be hurt."

And when Harry heard the word 'hurt' scrape itself out of Draco's lips, it reverberated inside his head, and rang down, all the way down, and he realized that it did hurt. It did.

And he was glad.

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Harry woke up later, feeling achey and stiff. Then he realized it was because he wasn't in his bed. He wasn't in any bed. He was curled uncomfortably into Draco's armchair, with his neck bent forward at an odd angle.

They hadn't talked any more after that, they'd just sat there. For hours. Harry in the chair, Draco on the couch. It had been completely silent. They just sat in each other's company, feeling bad, or something like bad. For hours. Harry raised his head and took in the room. Draco had also fallen asleep. He had a crease between his eyebrows, and he was frowning. Harry pried himself out of the chair and stretched. Then he went to Draco. He didn't know why, but he just wanted to touch him. He loved how soft and small and worried Draco looked. He put a hand on Draco's arm, covered in a wrinkled shirt. It felt so thin. It was one of those things where you just want to hug. But he didn't. He turned around and left. He hoped that the three of them could be alright.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

A month passed. Harry went on with his life, sort of. He really did not know what it was he was supposed to do. He felt as though he should give Blaise and Draco time to fix things between themselves first, anyway. After all, they'd been friends first. He was the intruder. He was the one who'd broken everything. He decided to keep to himself for a while, and mostly involve himself in Ron and Hermione. The news of the baby was, after all, life-changing news. There was rather a lot of excitement around the home of the couple, and almost every flat surface was completely covered in books about pregnancy and birth which Hermione had gotten. Seamus had felt a little odd, being there, and knew he was burgeoning on wearing out his welcome, so he'd asked Harry if he could stay at his apartment. Harry of course said yes, even though his flat was fairly cramped already. Seamus was, however, the perfect houseguest. He was so appreciative that he cleaned up not only after himself, but after Harry too, and he cooked. Not only that, he did everything he could not to get in Harry's way too much. And of course, the boy was utterly charming. Harry could not possibly get annoyed in his company. He was just too much fun.

Harry did not feel like talking to Hermione and Ron about his relationship situation, since they, of course, had better things to think about. But Seamus listened. Harry didn't really have a job at the moment, as he could live quite comfortably off his inheritance. He planned to get one, though. Some time. So when Seamus came home from his own job, whatever it happened to be at the moment, the two of them would eat and talk together. Harry began to think that perhaps he had a new best friend. He could certainly use one. After all, Ron and Hermione were always his favourite people, but they had each other. He sometimes felt very isolated from them.

Seamus' advice had been to call Draco, but then he changed his mind and said not to, and then he said that first he should call Blaise, but then he changed his mind and said not to. He then suggested forgetting about it altogether and just finding a new man, but then he said not to do that after all. After several hundred possible solutions, Seamus agreed that the best thing to do at this point was, well, nothing. Harry had rolled his eyes. He knew that. He'd known that.

So Harry waited. And he waited. He missed Draco. He missed him, he did. And it wasn't only the sex, really. He'd liked being around the boy. He was witty, and clever, and sharp. But even with all those sharp edges, there'd been something underneath; something warmer, and softer, almost hidden. Draco had always made sure not to hurt Harry, when he entered him. And he'd never said 'I love you', which almost always ends up being a lie. And Draco had always touched all of Harry, not just his cock. He'd looked into his eyes. He'd smiled. These things were so small, but they had had an echoing, burrowing effect on Harry. Draco did not ever pretend to love Harry. He just did these things, because they happened to present themselves within him. He didn't even notice that he was doing them. He just was.

Harry almost gave up on Draco. But Seamus made sure he didn't. He reminded him all the time, with random little phrases. As they were eating dinner: 'Draco liked this stuff, didn't he?' When they watched television: 'Did Draco ever watch t.v? It doesn't seem like he would.' And when he noticed Harry staring glumly into space: 'He hasn't forgotten you, Harry!' So Harry hoped.

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One day, Harry was on his way out, when a blur which resembled Seamus threw itself in front of him, preventing him from leaving. The blur, which turned out to in fact, be Seamus, grinned widely and held out the telephone. Harry took it, giving Seamus an odd look.

"Hello?"

A pause.

"Hello Harry."

Harry glanced wildly at Seamus, who nodded, still grinning.

"Draco?"

"Yeah, hi. Listen Harry, can you meet me tonight?"

Harry didn't know if he should be excited, or nervous.

"Er, yeah. Yeah."

"Great, Madame Rosmerta's, at seven. That alright?"

Harry nodded, then remembered that Draco couldn't see it.

"Okay, I'll be there."

"I'll see you, Harry."

"Bye."

"Wait—Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I've missed you."

The line was silent, as Harry very nearly exploded.

"I've missed you too."

Another pause, and then a click. Harry slowly lowered the phone, and turned back to see Seamus with his hand over his mouth.

"Awww!! He said he missed you?" cried the sandy-haired boy.

Harry shrieked as Seamus jumped on him, causing the pair of them to crash to the floor.

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Seamus patted Harry on the cheek and then leaned over to open Harry's door. Harry stayed still in the car for a moment, biting his lip. Then Seamus shoved him out onto the sidewalk.

Harry glared at him as he struggled to regain his composure, and the boy smiled.

"It's okay, Harry. Just don't say anything wrong!"

And with those words of confidence, Seamus drove off, leaving Harry alone in front of the restaurant.

He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and went inside. However, when he spotted that distinctive blonde head, he also became aware of another, darker one. He almost stopped dead. But didn't. He slowly moved toward the table of Draco and Blaise, and the two of them stopped talking when they saw him. Draco smiled a little, and gestured for him to sit down. Blaise didn't make eye contact.

"Harry, Blaise is just here for a few minutes, okay?"

Harry swallowed, and bit his lip. But he was relieved, a little, by that knowledge.

He watched Blaise until the man looked up and made eye contact, and then Harry offered him a smile, hoping hoping hoping that it was returned.

It was.

Whew.

Then he felt an immovable urge to say something.

"Okay, wait, before you say anything, I just want to say that I am really, really sorry," he said, staring into Blaise's brown eyes. "I'm not an ass, not really. I mean, I was, to you. But—but, I honestly didn't even think that you could actually like me…Usually guys just sleep with me, and…and that's it…" he trailed off, putting his hands in his lap under the table. "I just didn't think--"

"Harry, stop," Blaise interrupted gently. "It's alright. I mean, I was pretty upset, but then I got over it."

"You…"

"Got over it," he finished with a small smile. "And also, it was half Draco's fault, wasn't it?"

Draco spoke:

"Yes, Blaise and I realized that all three of us had some serious issues. I mean, you have inferiority issues, Blaise here has a thing with possessiveness and vengeance, and I, I have a desperate need for attention."

The corners of Blaise's lips quirked up, and Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Fuck."

"Yeah," said Blaise. "Anyway, Harry, I just wanted to tell you that I still pretty much think you're an ass, but Draco is too, and you two deserve each other. And I've found someone better." Oh! That was how he'd gotten over it, wasn't it? "Who I happen to be late meeting."

Blaise stood up, and Harry did too.

"Blaise, seriously. I feel awful. Are you sure you don't hate me?" he said.

Blaise reached out and touched his arm.

"Harry, I forgive you."

Harry opened his arms and hugged him. Blaise whispered into his ear, "asshole". They laughed, and Blaise left, raising his hand to Draco.

Harry sat down again, and for some reason, he suddenly felt very shy and awkward.

Then he felt Draco's warm slender hand on his own, and he looked up.

"So you two are really okay?" he asked.

Draco looked down and smiled a little.

"Yes, Harry. We've sorted ourselves out. I mean, at first, we completely avoided each other. But then one day he stormed into my flat and started screaming, and we really let loose on each other. We pretty much tore each other to shreds. You should have seen the blood! My shirt was ruined…" Harry knitted his brows. "But no, it was perfect. We'd already had a lot of weird stuff between us, Harry. See, we used to be together."

"Oh!"

"Yeah. So, it was actually really cathartic. And then we talked. We talked for ages, just sitting there bleeding. And we kept talking, for a few days. Then after a few weeks I realized that I felt something for you." He glanced up, and Harry melted. "Well, actually, Blaise realized that I felt something for you." He smirked. "He said I was really boring now, and that I had to call you."

"So you did," stated Harry. Draco looked into his emerald eyes and nodded.

"Well it certainly took a while, didn't it? I just didn't think that could happen, you know?"

A lopsided smile formed on Harry's face. Then the brunette scooted his chair around the table so that he was right next to Draco, and he leaned forward and kissed him. Ah, it had been so long. So long. Draco tasted so good. Like coffee and vanilla. Draco kissed back, not ferociously, as they'd used to do, but softly. When they parted, Harry let out a giggle. He couldn't help it! Draco smiled at the sound, and leaned close to him.

"Do you want to go dancing?"

**Fin. **

**(For now).**

**A/N: Okay loves, thank you for reading, and double thanks if you reviewed! You can still do so, by the way. Anyway, here is my plan. I am going to make a sequel! Yes, I feel like this is the end of this part. But it's certainly not the end of everything, is it? **

**I hope you liked it. I hope you wait up for me, for the next bit. I hope that all your dreams come true! I mean, really. I like you a lot, even though I don't know you. Because you are the only people in my life who read my writing. And I want to be a writer, I do. This is how I work on it. I don't know why I am still talking! **

**Goodbye for now!**


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